


Welcome to the Weasleys

by gracie137



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/F, Falling In Love, Family Dinners, Fluff, Ginny in dungarees, Meet the Family, Meeting the Parents, Nervousness, Overwhelming amounts of red hair, Pansy does her best, Weasley Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 10:50:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14079276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracie137/pseuds/gracie137
Summary: Pansy will do anything to make Ginny happy, and unfortunately, this includes meeting her rather large and extremely ginger family.





	Welcome to the Weasleys

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!! So the last couple of days I've just been feeling the vibe to write a little Fem-Slash, and since I adore Ginsy I wanted to write this little fluffy piece that I hope you all enjoy!!
> 
> This is unbetaed so i apologise for all mistakes

Pansy had done a lot of terrifying and foolish things in her life. There was that time she and Draco thought it would be a good idea to sneak into the Manor woods to try and find Dark creatures; there was the time she had tried to lie to McGonagall’s face, there was the time she had thought she could ignore the fact she fancied Isabella Flint and date Draco; the time she let Millicent pierce her ears, and then there was the time she tried to hand Harry Potter over to the Dark Lord.

Yes, Pansy could document her life by her many, many terrifying and foolish decisions, but she had never been quite so afraid as she was in the current moment, staring at her Floo trying to get up the strength to say _The Burrow_.

Ginny had been begging her for weeks to come round for one of Molly Weasley’s Sunday lunches and Pansy had been making excuses. Simple little white lies that wouldn’t hurt anyone, because Pansy liked Ginny.

Pansy liked Ginny so much that she was worried that Ginny was becoming another one of those pesky _terrifying and foolish things_ . Pansy was actually 99% sure that Ginny was becoming one of those _things_ because here she was standing at the floo about to floo over to _The Burrow_.

 _The Burrow_ . The home of the Weasleys. The home of her girlfriend. The house that she and Draco had mocked mercilessly for seven years of their lives because they had once believed there was nothing worse one could be than _poor_.

Pansy had since learnt that there were a lot worse things one could be than poor.

She smoothed down her robes again wishing that Ginny were here with her so they could go together. Ginny had offered but Pansy had promised that she would be fine to do it by herself. She wasn’t fine to do it by herself.

She turned to the mirror above her fire place ensuring her hair still lay flat. She knew that her hair potions would have kept it perfectly in place with just the right amount of shine too, but it gave her something to do. She traced her nail underneath her lip as if to remove a non-existent smudge of her pale lipstick.

She’d wanted to make a good impression, so she’d toned down the make up. Molly Weasley seemed like a wholesome woman, someone who wouldn’t appreciate Pansy’s red lipstick and thick winged eyes. Pansy felt a bit bare without them, as if they offered her some sort of protection.

Pansy personally thought she was a bit passed making a good impression due to her school years but Ginny assured her that wasn’t so. Pansy had a feeling Ginny was lying to spare her feelings.

“You can do this,” Pansy muttered to herself, straightening her sleeves and giving her nails one last inspection — as if it would be chipped nail varnish that would have Molly Weasley throwing her out on her arse.

“You can do this,” she repeats, picking up the flowers and wine from the table. She’s probably spent too much on them, but she’d wanted to be polite. Her mother had taught her always to bring a thank you gift.

Would the Weasleys think she was throwing her wealth in their faces? Perhaps they would rather she bring no gift at all.

She wanted Ginny here. She wanted Ginny here to laugh at her and tell her she was being ridiculous, to pull her close with that crooked smile on her face and promise that everything was going to be okay.

Ginny’s nose would wrinkle, and her amber eyes would sparkle as she challenged Pansy to push herself, to let down her guard and let Ginny’s family in.

Ginny meant the world to Pansy, and Ginny’s family meant the world to Ginny, and Pansy so desperately wanted to make Ginny happy.

She cast a cleaning spell at her shoes. She could do this.

She had survived the Carrows, she could survive the Weasleys.

She was Pansy Parkinson, and no-body had ever expected much from her. They had expected her to grow up and become a pretty little Pureblood wife who simpered and smiled and existed to please her husband. She was Pansy Parkinson had she had _fuck you_ to expectations. She had started her own makeup company that was booming, she had her own flat and she was dating Ginny Weasley, Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies.

She wondered if young her would be proud or horrified. She liked to think a mix of both.

She was Pansy Parkinson and she could attend lunch at the Burrow. She could make Ginny happy and show that she was making an effort.

She’d got to know Ron, Hermione and Harry over the weeks (always dragging Draco with her for moral support — Draco complained but he and Harry were getting on _suspiciously_ well) and they were basically Ginny’s family, so how hard could a few more Weasleys be…

The Floo powder was slipping through her fingers and so summoning every inch of Slytherin ambition to impress Ginny she blurted out, “ _The Burrow_ , _”_ and marched through the Floo before she could change her mind.

Pansy regretted her decision instantly and blamed it on spending too much time with Ginny. Gryffindors were not good for the heart.

She glanced around the shabby sitting room and then hated herself for thinking of it as such. It wasn’t shabby it was… it was lived in, in a way her family house never looked. The carpet was worn, and the sofas were patchy, but across the walls were rows and rows of pictures of red headed children, with the occasional dark head of Hermione and Harry thrown in. It was a family home, and Pansy could see it in every dent and crack.

There were no expensive and strange looking pieces of artwork, no furniture so expensive that she feared to exist near it. It was warm, and she could hear laughter coming from outside.

Her fingers tightened on the gifts in her arms as she glanced up at a wonky clock, she was right on time yet Ginny was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she should have apparated here… perhaps—

A ginger man with a pair of spectacles strode into the room before coming to an abrupt halt as he spotted her, standing in the fireplace looking lost and alone. He seemed to regard her with a trained eye that Pansy knew well from Ministry men. She wracked her head trying to remember Ginny’s brothers, before the right one popped into her head.

“Hello,” she said, letting every manner that had been drilled into her slide into place, a smile on her face, “You must be Percy Weasley, I’m Pansy Parkinson, lovely to meet you.”

Percy only paused for a fraction of second before stepping forward and offering his hand, she shifted the gifts into the crook of one arm and shook his hand. He was certainly Ministry trained, but not in the way Ron was from working with the Aurors.

Pansy was thrilled her Weasley research had paid off.

“Yes, lovely to meet you,” Percy said, “I presume you’re looking for Ginny.”

“Yes, but I have a little thank you for having me gift for your parents first,” Pansy said, only the power of Priscilla Parkinson’s training keeping her knees from buckling at the thought.

Percy’s eyes caught the gifts approvingly. “Very well, mum’s in the kitchen with Harry if you want to come through.”

Pansy nodded and cast one last longing look at the Floo before walking after Percy, forcing herself to keep her head high. She could handle Harry, and perhaps he would soften the blow of Molly Weasley.

“Mum, Pansy Parkinson’s here and she’s brought gifts,” Percy said, gesturing Pansy into the kitchen before turning tail and leaving her there. She swallowed, eyes catching on Harry who shot her a smile as he peeled the potatoes.

“I wanted to bring something to say thank you for extending a lunch invitation to me,” Pansy said, her voice sounding high and stilted even to her own ears. She swallowed again, and Harry gave her another smile, more encouraging.

She let her eyes finally settle on Molly Weasley who was regarding her with knowing eyes that made Pansy want to collapse to the floor and beg for forgiveness. Molly Weasley lost a son in the war, one of the twins. Fred Weasley.

Pansy had always hated him at school with his loud mouth and the way their jokes went too far. She’d hated the fact every teacher but Snape turned a blind eye to the twins’s treatment of Slytherins.

It was different now. Fred had been Ginny’s brother, and Ginny still loved him even after he was gone. Pansy hadn’t lost anyone like that in the war, she’d lost Vince, but she hadn’t loved Vince the way Ginny loved Fred.

She couldn’t figure out if Molly was about to start screaming at her for everything she’s done wrong in her life. “It’s lovely to meet you,” Pansy croaked out.

Molly’s face softened, a smile spreading across her face as she bustled forward all flowery robes and a red apron. Pansy’s mother never looked like that. She was always groomed to perfection, she didn’t let her grey hairs show and the wrinkles around her eyes were spelled away. She didn’t wear her age and the things she had overcome with pride.

“You didn’t need to,” Molly laughed, taking the flowers and wine and placing them on the kitchen table beside a hearty looking jam sponge cake, “but I’m certainly not complaining! These are beautiful!”

“I’m glad you think so,” Pansy said, trying to force herself to lighten up.

Molly Weasley smiled at her again, “So, you’re the Pansy I’ve heard so much about.”

“Good things I hope,” Pansy said, trying for a weak joke and for a second the smile on Molly’s face flickered and Pansy felt her heart fall.

“Yes,” Molly said, “Good things.”

A loud cough caused Pansy to start and she turned to see Ginny leaning against the kitchen door, mouth pulled up in a smirk. She was in Muggle dungarees and Pansy let out a breath of laughter at the sight. The dungarees were rolled up at the legs exposing half of her freckled calves, and she was wearing a white cropped tee underneath allowing Pansy a glimpse of her toned, freckled stomach.

Pansy forced her eyes away, but Ginny grinned, suggesting she’d been caught. Pansy rolled her eyes, unable to curb her smile now that Ginny was here.

“What are you two talking about?” Ginny asked, and Pansy recognised the flicker of worry that flashed across her face.

“They’re sharing embarrassing stories about you,” Harry said, and Pansy felt another bit of tension leave her.

“My mother, my ex and my girlfriend,” Ginny drawled, “It’s anyone’s worst nightmare.”

Harry flipped Ginny off and returned to cooking. Pansy laughed, letting Ginny slip an arm around her waist. She used to be insecure about the fact Ginny had dated Harry Potter, but Ginny assured her that Harry was a useless boyfriend.

She felt more grounded facing Molly Weasley with Ginny’s arm around her. “Shall we go meet the other’s?” Ginny offered.

“Yes, as long as your mother doesn’t need any help in the kitchen,” Pansy said to be polite because she’s an awful cook, and Ginny knew this.

“Mum hates people helping in the kitchen,” Ginny laughed, “Harry’s only there because he refuses to take no for an answer.”

“I’ve been told I’m stubborn,” Harry shrugged.

“To say the least,” Molly sighed, swatting him with a tea towel. Harry grinned at her slow and easy, and Pansy’s heart tugged because she’d never manage to be as part of the family as Harry was. “But no, go meet the other’s and help yourself to a glass of something. Ginny’s been dying to show you off.”

“I have,” Ginny said, “You’re like my show dragon.”

“I resent that comment.”

“But you’re so pretty,” Ginny whined, squeezing Pansy’s hip. “Anyway, if you think about it I’m the trophy wife. You run your own company and I just fly around playing Quidditch.”

“I’d hardly call being the Harpie’s youngest starting Chaser ever _just flying around playing Quidditch.”_

“See, you even big up my achievements,” Ginny grinned, leading Pansy out of the kitchen into the garden. Pansy glanced over her shoulder before they left, and caught sight of Molly staring after them as if she hadn’t truly seen them before.

Ginny squeezed Pansy’s hand as they hovered on the fringe of Weasleys and significant others. “You okay?” Ginny asked.

Pansy nodded as if she wasn’t running every piece of Weasley trivia through her head as she stood there taking in the scene. She could see Hermione and Fleur and a little blonde girl running about, but the rest was a sea of every shade of red and orange imaginable. Tall, short, slim, stocky, it didn’t matter because there was a shade of ginger to go with it.

The Parkinsons didn’t look like this. They didn’t mingle in amongst each other with heads thrown back in laughter, they didn’t clink their drinks together as they stood there in their odd clothing.

Pansy’s mother always ensured the Parkinson's were dressed to a T because she knew that the Malfoys held it against them that Mitchell had chosen to marry a Japanese witch, even if she was a pureblood. Pansy had always been held to higher standards in the hope that people would forget that piece of knowledge.

“You sure you’re okay?” Ginny asked again, her mouth twisted with concern.

Pansy nodded. “Of course, I’m okay.”

“It’s fine if your not,” Ginny said, moving closer so Pansy was sheltered from the watchful eyes of the Weasleys — who had clearly never learnt the meaning of the word _subtlety_. “I know people find my family overwhelming at times.”

Pansy shook her head, entwining Ginny’s hand with hers. “I want to get to know them, it’s just…” she fingered the loose strap of Ginny’s dungarees, “my family are nothing like this, and your family has a lot of reasons to hate me.”

Ginny frowned. “They do, but they don’t because they love me, and I… I really like you.”

Pansy’s breath caught at Ginny’s pause, because there was no way someone like Ginny could… but maybe… maybe she could… Pansy certainly could feel _that_ way about Ginny.

“I really like you too,” Pansy said, eyes fluttering shut as Ginny’s hand slipped into Pansy’s thick hair.

“Good,” Ginny said, leaning forward and kissing Pansy, just a lingering peck but it was enough to draw a raucous applause from the Weasleys in front of them. “Ignore them,” Ginny laughed, drawing back and squeezing Pansy’s hand, but using her other one to flip her family off.

Pansy couldn’t imagine flipping her family off.

“We’re just happy for our lil sis,” someone said, and Pansy wanted to say that was Bill Weasley. “Finally found someone to bring home to the family.”

“She brought Harry home?” Ron interjected from where he was taking to a Weasley that Pansy believed was George.

“You brought Harry home,” Ginny said.

Ron’s face scrunched in thought before he laughed, “So, I did.”

“Honestly,” Hermione sighed, appearing beside Ginny and Pansy and offering them both a _look_. “I feel like I’m the third-wheel of Harry and Ron sometimes.”

“Understandable,” Ginny said, “They’re basically married.”

“Old married couple,” Hermione agreed.

Pansy laughed. “Greg and Draco are the same.”

“Boys,” Hermione sighed again, but her face was fond as she stared at Ron. It was surreal sometimes to Pansy that she could stand there hand in hand with Ginny Weasley and share a joke with Hermione Granger, and it gave her faith for the world. Faith that people and things can always get better.

“Come on,” Ginny said, tugging Pansy’s hand. “I want to introduce you to my dad, he’s got loads of questions about how you merge Muggle things with magic for you makeup line.”

“He does?” Pansy said, unsure how to handle the fact that Ginny’s family really did want to meet her.

“He does,” Ginny promised, and so Pansy relented letting Ginny pull her over to meet the rest of the Weasleys.

***

When they finally returned to Pansy’s flat, Pansy was exhausted. She was good at charming a room, she knew the right questions to ask and when to smile, but the Weasleys weren’t like the Upper Wizarding class she had been prepared for. They joked and spoke out of term, and were physically affectionate with each other. They didn’t have the same boundaries that Pansy had been taught a family would fall apart without.

“So,” Ginny prompted, causing Pansy to turn all this over in her head, “How was it?”

“It was good,” Pansy said, “Your family is great.”

Ginny beamed, pulling Pansy closer as they curled up on the sofa, wireless humming away on the table beside them. In front of them was a selection of leftovers that Molly had forced them to bring home despite the fact that Pansy was pretty sure she’d never eat again… however, her eyes couldn’t help but linger on the cake.

“Really?” Ginny asked, nuzzling the back of Pansy’s neck. Pansy arched her neck to allow Ginny better access, smiling to herself at the feeling of Ginny’s lips.

Pansy thought of every horrible thing she had heard and parroted about the Weasleys as a child. “Really.”

“I’m glad,” Ginny said, arm hanging over Pansy’s waist, tracing patterns across the swell of Pansy’s stomach. Pansy sucked in her stomach before letting it relax when Ginny pinched it. Pansy’s body was always going to be soft, especially after the amount of food she had been fed today. “You know what this means?” Ginny said, and Pansy froze at the teasing tone in Ginny’s voice.

“What?” Pansy said.

Ginny kissed her neck. “It’s time for me to meet your family now.”

Pansy sighed. “Really?”

“Really,” Ginny echoed, her laughter warm against Pansy’s skin. “I want to know every part of you Pansy Parkinson and that includes your family.”

Pansy smiled even though Ginny couldn’t see her. Ginny wanted to know every part of her, even the more rotten ones like her family. “I guess that can be arranged."

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed!!
> 
> Kudos and comments fuel my life!!


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